Just Go With It
by cosmicvoids
Summary: University!Dan & Phil [realistic, domestic] alt-universe where they are the same age and not YouTube or BBC Radio sensations, but still flatmates Part 1 Summary: Dan discovers his cereal is missing, but there's no mystery here. How will Phil make it up?


**Just Go With It**

 _(University!Dan & Phil [realistic, domestic] alt-universe where they are the same age and not YouTube or BBC Radio sensations, but still flatmates)_

Part 1

Humans prefer a kind of order over disorder. In this pursuit, they craft strings of meaning out of chaos, create cultures and societies, construct identities to wear and cram others into. They do so, often, without regard for the others they share the earth with. Many are helpless against the tide and succumb to the iron will of expectation. I'd like to say that conditions have improved over time as humans learned more; I'd like to say that humans have made some progress towards a greater understanding and acceptance, but they have not. Humans still enslave those they view as inferior, kill and fight amongst themselves for wealth and power, pursue avarice without measure. True, there is always a faction among them who work towards a brighter day, but every man dances on the knife tip of greed and selflessness. So then, what progress can their be made within this aimless mass of time? But enough with the dramatic— I know such musings are useless and only bring on bouts of existential dread, which leave me in crippling anguish on the carpet floor of my flat. Speaking of which, I should probably get up.

I have been lying prostrate on the floor for quite sometime, and I suddenly notice an incessant buzzing from my phone, which is buried awkwardly in the front pocket of my pajama pants. Most likely a barrage of incoming tweets and Facebook messages. With much distain, I will my watery flesh sack off the floor. I bump into the white walls of the flat as I groggily sway down the hallway and bring the phone to my face. I force my eyes to focus on the white screen. It is of course, just what I expected— social media notifications. I press the phone into my face and continue down the hallway.

When I arrive at the kitchen, I find it empty with all the lights on and cabinet doors open. I sigh and reach for my cereal box. I inspect it's contents and find that the box I have only eaten one serving out of is completely empty. I put the box in the bin, close the cupboards, and flick off the lights. I stand in the darkness of the kitchen for a few moments, and let the familiar, instinctual fear wash over me. "That's quite e-fucking-nough of that," I say to myself as a shiver runs up my spine, causing me to involuntarily shake my head. I dart from the kitchen into the hallway.

I make my way up to my flatmate's bedroom. I know it had to have been Phil who ate all my bloody cereal. It always is. Phil and I have been friends for years. We met at University, even though we have different fields, humanities kids are pretty similar after all, so we ended up seeing each other quite a bit. We moved in together to save on housing costs in our final year. Being the absolute nerds we are, we both decided on continuing our academics, so we're still shacking up for our PhDs. I have lived with Phil for nearly three years now, but this is our last year of graduate school, and therefore, perhaps our last year living together. I mean, there's not much reason to stay here after we graduate and have different jobs, but I do wonder if I'll miss all of Phil's antics after we part ways.

Without warning I push open the door to his room. "Philly, why must you eat all of my…" I yelled as I entered the room. Phil is on his bed, laptop on his lap, eating something from a bowl. "That's my bleeding cereal, isn't it Phil? Phil." A hoarse laugh escapes my throat, "Phil. Is that my bleeding cereal?"

Phil looks up slowly from his glowing laptop screen and cracks his stupid, sheepish smile. "Danny-boy, I- I can explain."

"I'm waiting." Phil takes another spoon full of cereal. "Phil!"

With his mouth full, he manages to say, "Sorry." Then, he takes a big gulp and grunts, clearing his throat, "Sorry… I… don't have a good excuse… at… all."

"That doesn't sound like an explanation to me, and moments ago, you said, and I quote, 'I can explain'." I make little finger quotes around "explain" as I speak before clasping my arms around my chest.

"I can buy you some more?" Phil offers, before nonchalantly taking another spoonful of my cereal and turning his gaze back to his laptop.

"It's too late, the shops aren't open anymore."

"I'll get some for you, first thing tomorrow."

"Okay," I sigh, "but you could at least have the decency to offer me some of which you have stolen from me."

"I wasn't aware you were comfortable sharing utensils with me." Phil counters, not looking up.

I move a few more steps in the room. "Well… you haven't done anything really gross with the spoon, have you?"

"What'd ya mean, 'really gross'?"

"I mean, well, you haven't deep throated it or anything."

Phil looks at me blankly. "No Dan, I haven't deep throated the spoon," Phil says after a long pause.

"Okay," I shrug and make my way over to Phil's bed. I plop down beside him and snatch the cereal bowl from his hands. I take a bite. "What'cha doing Philip?"

"Writing… what else would I be doing?"

"Nice, nice," I reply, taking another heaping spoonful.

Phil clacks away on the keyboard. I lay back so I can kind of see what he's writing. It's something about words and language, that's for certain. It's a linguistics paper after all. "Dan, could you not chew so close to my ear?"

I slurp the almond milk from the bowl as loudly as I can before replying. "No actually, I can't."

Phil turns to me and makes face of mock anger. "I know I stole from you, but I don't think I deserve a messy, noisy pest in my bed while I'm trying to work."

"I'm not making a mess!" I proclaim while wiping some dribbled milk from the side of my mouth.

"But you admit you're a pest?" Phil smirks.

I glare back, "We both know that you're really the pest— leaving all the lights on downstairs and stealing people's food."

"I am a treasure and a gift."

"You are… but you're also…"

"Shhh…" Phil says, putting his finger to my lips. "You can stay in here as long as you want, but no more bickering… and let me get back to my paper." Phil turns his head back to the screen and resumes typing. "Do we have a deal?"

I pout, but shove another spoonful in my mouth. Through the sloshing of liquid and grains I mumble, "Deal."

"That's a good lad."

After a few moments, I offer Phil a spoonful of cereal, and he unseeingly slurps it into his mouth. He looks ridiculous, but I also find it extremely cute. I know I will miss the big oaf and his thievery when we are no longer living together. I feel a small, sharp pang in my stomach when I think about life after Phil, the flatmate. I wonder if he feels the same way.

Someday though, Phil is going to have a family and a job and maybe even little ones. He can't live with me forever, there's no point, no matter how much I wish there was something keeping us together. "Hey Phil?"

Phil keeps typing but tilts his head towards me, "Yeah?"

"Do you think you'll miss living with me?"

"Um," Phil says in a soft voice, "yeah, Dan, of course." The keyboard clicks pause for a moment, "But that's not going to be anytime soon, right?"

I nearly choke on my own breath, "Uh— well… I thought you'd want to move out after we graduate…"

"I don't see why we would?" Phil turns to me, "Unless you are planning on moving in with someone else?" He pauses, looking at me, waiting for a response. I shake my head no. "Because it's more economical this way." Phil smiles and turns back to this laptop, "Besides, I like living with you."

I smile, "Want the last bite?"

Phil nods. I put the spoon in front of his mouth, he swallows. I put the empty bowl and spoon on Phil's night stand and lay down on his bed. I take out my phone and look through my notifications as I listen to the clicks of Phil's typing. We stay this way for a long time, maybe an hour or so, until finally, Phil yawns.

"I think it is time for bed, mate."

I let my phone slip dramatically onto my face. Phil laughs. "Ugh, fine," I maneuver one leg at a time off of Phil's bed. "I guess I better get some sleep."

Phil walks over to the other side of his bed and offers me a hand, which I take. "I'm sure you need your beauty rest, how else will you have the energy to be in existential crisis mode tomorrow?"

"An excellent point." Phill pulls me up so we stand face to face. I put one hand on his shoulder and pat it lightly. "Good night, mate."

"Good night."

There is a loud, familiar clank which rouses me from my slumber. Before I can full process what is happening, Phil bursts into my room. "Daniel! I have a present for you!"

Phil leaps onto my bed causing me to bounce into the air a bit, "What the bloody hell are you doing?" I say, sleepily.

"I bought you some more cereal, " Phil says, shoving a huge box into my face.

"Oh, thank you, Phillip," I say darkly, "just what I wanted at 5 am, to be woken up by gifts of processed grains and sugar."

"It's not 5 am Dan," Phil counters, "it's almost noon."

"Aw, what? You're not serious."

"Deadly."

"Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"I was not aware I was your alarm clock."

"You're not." I turn over and put my back to him.

"Shall I bring you breakfast in bed, sleepy head?"

I crane my neck towards Phil, refusing to turn back over, "Yes please."

Phil picks up the box of cereal, "Alright. I'll be back." He walks from the room. From my bed I listen to him shuffle down the hallway into the kitchen. I hear the clanking of cupboards open, but not close as Phil, no doubt, rummages around looking for clean utensils. After a bit, I hear him stamp back up the stairs.

I sit up in my bed and see that Phil has brought two bowls. "Eating my cereal again?"

"That's okay right?" Phil says, sitting down on my bed gingerly. He hands me my bowl and spoon, "I bought a family pack."

I press a heaping spoonful of sugary almond milk and cereal into my mouth. "Yeah, I guess it's fine. Not like I can stop you anyway."

"That's the spirit."


End file.
